


Written in Blood and Bones

by Tsaiko



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Animal Death, Bad Puns, Blood and Gore, Creepy Bastard, weird sense of humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 17:44:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3905203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsaiko/pseuds/Tsaiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kevin doesn't understand why the interns at the radio station are afraid of him. He's given them no good reason to be afraid. But it is severe enough that station management has gotten involved. Maybe a sign will help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Written in Blood and Bones

**Author's Note:**

> I would say I'm sorry, but I'm not, so I won't. Please mind the tags. I'm not kidding about the blood and gore one.

Station management arrived in the form of a StrexCorp employee who quietly waited until Kevin went on break before speaking. “Kevin, if I may have a word with you? In private?”

The interns looked at Kevin, wide eyed in shock. In their experience, a visit from station management for a private word was not a good thing. They resulted in a “talk” and having a “talk” usually meant there was a problem. StrexCorp didn’t believe in problems. Only solutions. The best a problem could hope for was to find themselves quietly eliminated in a shallow grave and replaced. And those were the lucky ones.

Kevin didn’t seem at all bothered though. He calmly removed his blood covered gloves, his headphones, stood up, and smiled his too sharp smile. A line of intestines slithered off the table to plop wetly against the tile floor while blood trickled slowly towards the drain. “Of course. Will one of the conference rooms be fine?” 

The station manager nodded once, turned, and headed out the door. Kevin obediently followed. At the door of the conference room, the station manager paused with the door open and waited for Kevin to enter. Then he slowly and deliberately shut it behind him. He remained standing and was slightly perturbed that Kevin did as well.

The higher ups at StrexCorp had warned him that the usual dramatics would not work on their newest radio announcer. He was rather put out to see they were right. Kevin continued to watch him with his dark, predatory stare and a bland, amiable expression on his face.

“Station management is concerned about the morale of the interns at the radio station since you were hired. They seem to be uneasy around you during the work day.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Kevin replied. “I’ve been very careful to make sure I have not depressed morale.” The words especially after what happened to the last radio announcer were left unspoken. “I have taken to wearing gloves when handling the entrails, though it really does make it harder to see what they’re telling me that way, and work to contain the blood so it doesn’t accidentally splash on the interns. I even butcher and leave the pieces of the ritually sacrificed animals I use in the fridge, so they can have a steady supply of free meat. There’s no reason to waste it. I remember how tight money was when I was an intern and know they appreciate the extra sources of protein.”

“StrexCorp appreciates your efforts,” the station manager said. He looked vaguely green in the face. “But the fact of the matter remains that the interns are afraid of you.”

“Afraid of me?” Kevin looked like the idea that he inspired fear had never occurred to him. “They have no reason to fear me. I have read the StrexCorp employee manual thoroughly and know that the killing and dismembering of employees without prior management authorization will result in termination. The interns are probably some of the safest people in Desert Bluffs.”

Personally, the station manager thought that statements like that were part of the problem. He kept that opinion to himself. There was still a lot of internal politics and strife regarding the decision to hire Kevin as the radio announcer. Nonetheless, just by surviving for longer than six months and by actually doing his job while implementing corporate directives, Kevin had proved that he was a valuable asset. StrexCorp did not approve of damaging valuable assets. It would be best to tread lightly.

“Be that as it may, management would like you to address this issue somehow. They would prefer an indirect method, since dealing with you directly makes the interns…” He searched for a diplomatic word, but Kevin beat him to it.

“Uneasy and fearful. I do wish they had brought this directly to me so I could address it directly, but I understand how I can make people uncomfortable,” said Kevin, directing a too large smile at him. It made cold sweat break out on the station manager’s body and the hairs rise on the back of neck. “I would put them at ease with humor, but I’ve been told my sense of humor takes some getting use to.”

Kevin’s black eyes grew distant, as if he had gone somewhere else to think about the problem. Then he blinked and shook himself. “What about one of those inspirational signs? I’ve seen them up around StrexCorp headquarters and they seem very encouraging. I’m sure I could find one with a subtle bit of humor to it. That would do a lot to let the interns know I’m approachable. It will make me seem more _human._

There was a slight pause before, and a faint emphasis on the last word. Supposedly, Kevin was human. He looked human, and the heavily redacted employee profile the station manager had been given claimed he was human. But the way he acted… the station manager did not for one second believe that Kevin was actually human.

“A sign would help as long as it doesn’t violate corporate policies,” the station manager replied. It was a good idea. “Since it will be personal property, StrexCorp will not reimburse you for the expense.”

“I wouldn’t dream of asking for reimbursement. I’ll use my own money,” Kevin replied. “And now, I am afraid I must get back to the radio show. Was there anything else?”

“No. StrexCorp management will be continuing to monitor the situation. That is all.” As soon as Kevin was out the door, the manager shook his head. “Creepy bastard.”

For the first time since he’d started working on StrexCorp, the station manager wondered if being in management was worth it.

***

Kevin came in next Monday with two shopping bags instead of one. The interns noticed this only because they made a habit of noticing what Kevin brought in. No one trusted him.

The first bag was his lunch bag, which went in the refrigerator in the breakroom. No one had actually seen Kevin eat lunch. He disappeared for this legally required hour break, taking his lunch bag with him. And no one at the station had quite gotten up the nerve to check what was inside. At least bringing in the bag was semi-normal.

The second bag contained a small, wood sign that read “A clean desk is a sign of a sick mind.” It had a thick layer of varnish on it to make it easy to clean any blood or viscera off. Kevin found a hammer and a nail, and carefully put a nail in the wall above his desk. Then he hung the sign up, adjusting it minutely until it was straight.

There. Perfect.

Job completed Kevin turned towards the latest batch of interns. “Okay every. Let’s have a good day today on the radio. I brought a goat to sacrifice. He’s tied up in the break room. Once he’s dead and I have his intestines and blood on the soundboard, we should be good to go.”

***

Strangely enough, the sign did not equate to an immediate improvement in morale.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally supposed to be a part of a larger piece, but I never could get it to work right. This one is long enough that I think it stands on its own.
> 
> Also, I have not listened to all of Welcome to Night Vale, so I don't know how canon compliant this is any more. I believe this was written before year 2 or 3 was released? I am so far behind on it.


End file.
